


Bloody Capture

by notsovileblood



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Blow Jobs, Boot Worship, Dom/sub, Dominance, Dubious Consent, Forced Ejaculation, Forced Orgasm, Gangbang, Nonbinary Character, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Oral Sex, Smut, Submission, Top Alfred, bottom Bloody Crow, the choir - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-02-19 11:22:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22843498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsovileblood/pseuds/notsovileblood
Summary: After slipping up, the Bloody Crow is subjected to his rival's will.
Relationships: Alfred/Bloody Crow Of Cainhurst, Bloody Crow Of Cainhurst/The Hunter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> yo! this is my first work i've posted online.  
> I'll be updating this here and there, as i go. There is a cut off at end purely as the bit after that needed some proper tweaking so chapter 2 will be up very soon!

It had been a miserable capture. 

Completely surrounded by such a pathetic menagerie of excuses for Hunters. Alfred, that gods forsaken Executioner they had been rivals with for years; the smug look on his face ass he had pinned the Bloody Crow of Cainhurst down, practically hogtied them with their helm pressed against the cold, hard floors of the Cathedral. His laughs made the Crow grumble in shame. And that pathetic pair of hunters; their genders had been undiscernible, but their laughs had been sharp enough without that knowledge. The pair of them working in tandem to take the Crow down, seemingly connected to each other as they had darted about the cathedral with infuriating grace. It had been a long fight, but only because of the Crow’s burning desperation to free themselves, to tear those fools apart.

But it had been they who had become the fool. 

The Cainhurst knight was sat in a cold Church cell, their back pressed against the cell wall and their legs outstretched. The hunters had left them with their helm and they retained a shred of their honour, the swirling carvings soothing and familiar beneath their fingers despite their gauntlets. The hunters who had locked them in the cell had chained their wrists together, but the chain had a considerable length to it and allowed them minimal movement. It was hanging through a loop above their head on the wall and was connected to some bricks in the far end of the room. It had been hours now; they were half unsure if the church fools were even going to return. Half of them hoped that they were indeed left to rot; it would be less shameful than dying at the hands of those disgusting church hunters, and they didn’t want to give the foul creatures the satisfaction of their head on a platter. They turned their head to the small, thin window that gave them a small view of the Cathedral Ward streets. They longed for home, feeling a pang of shame at the thought. Without their summons they could never go home; shamed and shunned by their queen and living in dishonour. Their fists curled and their knuckles whitened. They would prove to the queen they were worthy of coming home, whatever it took. Whoever they had to kill, whatever they had to do. 

They would survive this and find their way home. 

The Bloody Crow was interrupted from their thoughts at the faint sounds of voices and footsteps coming from down the stone hallway. They felt a flash of panic, sitting a little more upright. Even without their precious weaponry, they would put up a vicious fight if any of the Church fools tried to touch them. Raising their chin, the Crow felt a fresh surge of defiance run in their veins. 

There they were, being led by that foul blonde. 

Alfred looked beyond smug; his handsome face was twisted into a grin that almost resembled a grimace; his cold green eyes locked onto the Crow as soon as they were within his sights. The darkness on his face only grew and made the Crow swallow a lump in their throat. In all their years of dancing around this simpleton, they had never suspected that he would be this . . unsettling. He had always seemed idiotic and sweet; the Crow was only half sure it was even the same man. They kept their defiant air about them, banishing their fear. Fear made men weak, and they would not be weak in the face of the one true enemy of the Vilebloods. Alfred stood out the front of their cell, the two hunters from the cathedral chatting amongst themselves and resembling those cheeky choir members who always seemed to know something that nobody else did. They shuddered, swallowing and remaining still. 

“Well well well,” Alfred practically cooed, his hands resting on his hips and his Church garb billowing around him. “If it isn’t the infamous Bloody Crow of Cainhurst. You’ve given us a run for our money, but your time is over now you filthy little Vileblood.”

Alfred waved one of his hands in a silent, knowing gesture, and the hunters behind him moved without speaking a word. The Church Executioner continued his speech of grandeur as the hunters unlocked the cell with a key that dangled on an old, rusted ring. Clearly there had not been prisoners down here for a long time; the with the hunt’s severity worsening by the day, and the Healing Church spiralling into ruin, taking prisoners had clearly dropped on their priority list. The Crow kept their composure as the hunters grabbed them by the jaw of their helm, pulling them away from the wall. Grunting, the Crow landed on their hands, taking an angry breath and slowly rising. 

“Helpless now, aren’t you?” Alfred laughed, entering the cell as the hunters pushed the Vileblood around. “Your kind have always been so utterly pathetic, squirming around under our magnificent boots like worms. I would bet your kind enjoyed the heels to their throats. Your foul kind enjoyed all likeness of debauchery, it would not shock me.”

Anger spread through the Crow’s veins like poison, setting their heart ablaze. But they dared not speak; the pathetic little Church bootlicker did not deserve their voice or their words. Alfred stood closer, dropping to a squat on the floor of the cell in front of the Crow. He grabbed them by their helm chin, gripping it and dragging the Crow closer to him.

“You would just love the taste of my boot, wouldn’t you?” He growled, his voice low and deep. Alfred’s hand disappeared from their helm to their exposed throat, and the Crow let out a short and quiet gasp at the sudden movement. “How rude of you not to speak in my presence.” 

One of the hunters slammed their boot into the Crow’s ribs while Alfred held them in place. They groaned quietly, sinking their teeth into their lip and daring not to give them the satisfaction of their cries. 

“Take off its helm, Alfred.” One of the hunters, a man, snickered. “Maybe if it wont speak you could teach it some manners and respect.”

“I do believe that is a spectacular idea.” Alfred spoke lowly, using his spare hand to lift the chin of the helm the Crow wore. 

Gritting their teeth and swallowing sharply, the Crow raised their chin defiantly which only warranted a cold laugh from Alfred. He tightened his grip around their throat, making them grab at his wrists and scratch helplessly at the thick fabric he was garbed in. They choked out softly, grinding their teeth together as Alfred lifted their helm off of their head, their long white hair falling in their face. They were pale, with a delicate and noble face. Alfred’s eyes widened ever so slightly for a moment, as if he was not expecting the Crow to bear such a beautiful face. Once the Crow’s helm was lifted off of their head, Alfred used his hand to trace over their thin, angular lips. Angrily, the Crow went to bite his finger but was promptly punched in the nose before they could. 

Snarling, the Crow glared up at Alfred, who loosened his grip on their throat. Blood dripped from their nose in a steady stream, the colour a disgusting dark red. Before the Crow could move to defend themselves, one of the hunters kicked them to the ground with a hard hit to the ribcage. They groaned softly and doubled over, landing in a curled heap on the floor with their arms uncomfortably positioned over their head as the chains kept them in their place. Before the Crow could even get themselves back up, the bottom of a boot found itself pressed against their cheek. They glared up at Alfred, who stood with a very smug expression on his face. He was very clearly enjoying this; seeing their arch nemesis on the floor in chains beneath his boot. Tilting his head, Alfred grinned. 

“Lick it.” His jeering tone disappeared. 

The Crow snarled, bearing their teeth and scrunching their nose in defiance. They hated the slow, burning warmth growing in their gut, they hated that a dirty little part of them wanted to do as they were told. Swallowing, they remained still and silent, refusing to obey the orders of the Executioner. Alfred looked displeased, as if some kind of ugly beast find itself in his path. He nudged their mouth with the tip of his boot once again.

“I said, lick it. Do as you are told, you filthy Vileblood.” He growled.

The Crow felt their leather pants become even tighter as they moved slightly, biting their lip as they parted their soft pink lips to draw their tongue over the tip of his boot. It had been recently polished, that much they could taste, but Alfred had clearly been walking in the blood stained streets. They let out a soft noise at the taste of blood touching their tongue, savouring that single sweet taste. Alfred laughed as he heard the noise leave the lips of the Vileblood.

“Oh you like that, do you? I had no idea the Bloody Crow of Cainhurst was such a slut.” Alfred sneered, nodding to one of the hunters. 

They moved soundlessly, stepping over the Crow from behind and sitting on his butt and straddling him. He grabbed a fistful of the Crow’s hair, producing a whine from the Cainhurst knight. The hunters laughed, while Alfred continued to force the white haired Vileblood to lick and lap at the blood on his boots. 

“I do believe you have had enough.” Alfred rumbled as he nodded to the hunter that was holding the Crow’s head in place by a fistful of that beautiful hair. “Get it up. On it’s knees.”

The hunter stepped back and dragged the knight up by their hair, forcing them onto their knees with their arms now behind their back. Their expression was furious, with blood dripping from their nose and crusting at their nostril. they were so ashamed, felt so foul, to be so aroused by the submission they were forced into. Their cheeks were red with the flushed blood, their own trousers so unbearably tight at their crotch. Alfred’s cold green eyes drifted to the bulge in their pants and a dark grin of amusement fell on his face that made the Crow’s blood run cold. The hunter behind them kept a tight grip on their hair, making their head ache. They bore their teeth at Alfred, snarling at him furiously. They were so confused and so aroused that it was making them burn with shame. No Vileblood should be submissive to any outside their race, let alone the scum that was the Executioners. 

Alfred bent down, grabbing their chin and locking their eyes. 

“If you bite me, I will blow your body parts off one by one and make sure you’ve enough blood vials to stay alive until you are but a head.” Alfred’s dark glare carried the seriousness of his threat and the intentions he bore. 

The Crow spat in his face, only to receive a knee to the mouth. Their held was held in place by their hair and they cried out, snarling and spitting blood onto the cell floor. They glared up at Alfred, the horror of what he was about to do setting in. Their pride had vanished, and was seemingly replaced by their arousal. It was becoming uncomfortable and they despised themselves for it. Alfred began to part his robes, loosening the belts that kept up his trousers. He slowly pulled them down along with his smallclothes, pulling free his half hard cock, grinning darkly as he stroked it. The hunter behind the Crow kept their tight grip, and the Vileblood could hear their foul panting behind them. They bet the freak wanted their places to be switched. The second hunter in the corner of the cell with their hand in their trousers definitely did.  
Grimacing, Alfred placed his cock against the Crow’s soft lips, but there was no parting or warm tongue to greet his head. The Executioner grabbed the Vileblood’s chin, forcing their mouth open with his thumb and forcing his jaw apart. Without a verbal order, the hunter holding the Crow’s hair grabbed their jaw from behind and forced their mouth open. Before they could protest, Alfred’s rather girthy cock was slid into their mouth, slowly reaching the back of their throat. The Executioner let out a soft, breathy noise and smeared the blood from their nose over their cheek, grinning darkly as he began to slide his cock in and out of their mouth to encourage them to suck. 

“Do as you are told.” 

The Crow glared at him darkly, not daring break their furious eye contact. They did not move until the hunter holding their head in position began to move it for them, forcing the warm cock in their mouth down their throat, back almost out and down again. Their head bobbed, Alfred letting out soft moans as he fucked the Crow’s mouth slowly and deeply, enjoying the tongue that begrudgingly swirled around his shaft, the lips that made such beautiful sounds against his skin. 

“F-Fuck-“ Alfred made a sharp, strangled noises, biting his lip and taking such deep pleasure in the fury that burned like cursed fire in the Vileblood’s eyes. 

The Crow felt tears begin to swell in their eyes as Alfred pushed his rather thick cock slowly down their throat, the head touching a spot that, in anyone else, would have been too far. The hot tangle of arousal burned in their stomach like hellfire, and after a moment they began to move their head to bob against Alfred’s cock on their own volition. Their honour was already gone and it was painful to disobey. The quicker this was over, the better. 

“Take off its robes.” Alfred breathed, waving his hand dismissively. 

The Executioner took the Crow’s hair in his own hand while the hunter behind the Crow began to remove their garb piece by piece. As they lost more and more clothing, their cheeks only grew redder and their cock only grew harder in their trousers. Finally, all that the Crow wore were their own trousers and the little silver bell around their neck. Alfred grabbed it with his spare hand, grinning. 

“Like a little kitten.” He breathed, having slowed down with his brutal pace. Clearly he wanted more than just his cock sucked. “I’ve not seen a man with such a soft chest.”  
The hunter behind the Crow began to run their hands up their sides, kneeling with their legs on the outsides of the Crow’s. They reached up from behind and began to rub and play with their soft, pink nipples, drawing out a soft moan from them. They hated that they liked it. They hated it with all their being, they hated the desperation that began to bubble within their gut like a primal urge. Alfred slowly pulled his cock free of the Vileblood’s mouth, enjoying the view of the strings of saliva and precum that connected his head with those soft lips. He watched as the hunter kissed at the Crow’s neck, leaving dark and sharp bitemarks that made the Crow yelp with every bite. Alfred let go of the Vileblood’s hair, letting it fall over their blushed face. The hunter pinched the soft nipples between his fingers, pressing their crotch against the Crow’s ass. 

Alfred watched with almost pride on his face, grinning at the scene before him. A Cainhurst knight, the Bloody Crow itself, on their knees before him and moaning as their nipples were played with. The silver bell around their neck made little noises, and the bitemarks on their neck were simply delicious to look at. He gently stroked his now hard cock, grumbling and groaning while he watched. 

“Let’s see what’s between it’s legs.” Alfred murmured, and with an eager look from the hunter that had the Crow at his mercy, he reached into the Crow’s pants and made a face of surprise.

“It’s a prick.” They grinned, their breath hot against the Crow’s ear.

He pulled their throbbing erection free from their trousers, grinning as he began to stroke it, clearly wishing for praise from the Executioner. Alfred grinned, quite pleased at seeing the Vileblood so willingly submitted, moaning and whimpering while they softly tried not to beg to be touched. 

“Take off its trousers and get it in position.” Alfred barked the order, unable to stop thinking about how soft and delightful the Crow’s ass would be around his cock.  
The hunter nodded eagerly, wrapping his arms around the Crow’s midrift and leaning back, pulling the Crow into a position in which they were leaning back, gazing up at Alfred with their legs slightly lifted up and spread, their dick resting against their stomach and twitching gently with excitement. 

“Trousers.”

The Crow’s pants were pulled off by the hunter who had been touching themselves in the corner, having darted forward to participate. The hunter who was holding the Crow in place moved their arms to underneath the Crow’s knees to make sure they could not move their legs freely. Their entrance was exposed, their pale legs spread. Alfred licked his lips and knelt down, holding his hand out. The hunter from the corner placed a small vial of oil in his hand, and without breaking contact the Executioner tipped it onto his fingers and began to pump his cock. The Crow made a soft, pleading noise, not wishing to be taken this way. They had never submitted in this way, and began to wriggle to get out of the hunters grip. This brought out laughs from the hunters, who only held them more tightly in place. The Crow began to do something they had not wanted to, something they assured themselves that they would rather die than do.

They began to beg. 

“P-Please, I don’t want this.” They croaked, squirming in the hunter’s grip. They were strong but he was stronger, with those brutish arms not made for any kind of grace. “Please stop-“

“Oh ho! It begs for mercy! What a pitiful little cry!” Alfred cruelly laughed, gripping the Crow’s legs to balance himself, using one of his hands to grab his head and press it against the Crow’s hole.

“No- No not without-!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> super sorry for such a long break! ill be adding a longer chapter with some more plot and some more smut next chapter so please enjoy the end of this scene! more elaborate stuff to come

The Crow half screamed as Alfred pushed his way inside without more than just some lubricant, no fingers or anything to prepare them. 

They screamed and squirmed, their cheeks flushing as their cock twitched against their stomach. Alfred groaned deeply at the warmth and tightness of the Crow, tilting his head back with a delighted moan escaping his lips. Pushing inside was definitely a challenge, and he could tell that this filth had clearly never submitted before. But it was a pain he was more than glad to subject upon them. It was more than they deserved. After much struggle, the Executioner was finally able to force the Crow’s hole to stretch enough to take almost his entire length. He slowly began to thrust his hips, the Crow bucking against him and crying out for mercy as they tried to pull away, their body betraying them. The hunters only laughed, and the one who had hidden in the corner unbuckled their own belts.

“Use it as you please. It has a gorgeous mouth.” Alfred moaned, a half smirk falling onto his lips as the hunter pressed the head of his cock against the Crow’s mouth. 

They shoved their dick between the Crow’s lips mid scream, pushing their length into the Crow’s mouth and as far as they could reach. The Crow choked at the sudden movement, lifting their eyes to the hunter with a pleading look. Alfred set a brutal pace, thrusting and pumping at such vicious speeds, pulling almost entirely out to his head and then thrusting himself right back into the hot, tight hole that the Crow felt nothing but shame to have beared. Tears streamed down their cheeks, the searing pain unlike anything they had felt before. They began to moan sharply, the sounds muffled around the cock in their mouth. The feeling of Alfred’s girth inside of them was so painful but sprinkled with pleasure, and they half wished that they could reach for their own cock to relieve the discomfort. The hunter that held them in place from behind moved one arm free of their legs, using a single arm to hold the Crow’s knees closely together. This only made their hole tighter, causing them to scream and Alfred to moan at the sudden pressure against his shaft. They used their free hand to rub and pinch gently at the Vileblood’s nipple once again, not caring that it was too much stimulation at once for them. 

Alred stopped his brutal pace rather suddenly, causing the Crow to let out gasping breaths that almost sounded like sobs. He grabbed the Vileblood’s cock with his hand, rather tightly, and began to forcefully play with their sensitive head, spreading the precome and slowly starting to thrust his hips into them once again. The Crow’s back arched sharply and their eyes stretched wide, rolling back. The cock in their mouth, in their ass, their head being played with, being bitten and kissed, their nipples being pinched and pulled . . . it was all too much. They screamed out, the sound muffled by the hunter fucking their mouth mercilessly. 

“That’s it.” Alfred grunted through his panting, rubbing their head with a grin. “Spill. Cum for us, you filthy whoreish Vileblood!”

The Crow tried to shake their head, tears streaming down their cheeks and mixing with the blood from their nose. Everything was overwhelming, every touch every taste . . . 

A tight coil released in their gut and despite their begging, their pleads for mercy, they came all over their bare chest, panting like a dog in heat.


	3. Chapter 3

Once they had finished with them, the Crow was left naked in their cell, legs twitching and shaking with only their bell dangling around their neck. 

They had been left that way for two days, tied in a way that left them unable to dress themselves. It had been miserable, sleeping with their bare skin on the cold cobblestone of the cell floor. Some hunters apprentices had come by once each day to give them a small amount of food. They had not at first spoken to the apprentices, but the second one had mentioned that Alfred had forbade anyone to touch them. While at first that had been something to be thankful for, it made the Crow worry. They didn’t want to know what he had planned. Part of them wished the hunters had just killed them. That would have at least let them die with dignity. If they had any of that left.

Being exiled had taken what honour they had left. Their dignity was the only thing they’d had left. Their reputation. Not even Eileen would fear them now. They wondered about their home. Their queen. What she would say if she ever found out. They had once been her pride and joy, part of her personal guard. Being shunned had been the worst thing that had ever happened to them. The Crow was interrupted from their thoughts by the sound of footsteps. Their instincts overpowered their hopelessness and they lifted their head like a cat, eyes scanning the darkness. A hunter appeared; one of the pair that had captured them at first. But there was no arrogance about him this time, and he looked almost . . shameful?

Without a word he opened the cell door, slipping inside. They walked over, giving the Crow a disdainful look.

“You’re to be washed and readied for Alfred. But know that if you put up a fight I will send you to him with a broken fucking nose.”

The Crow didn’t speak or acknowledge him other than their piercing stare. 

“Whatever.” The hunter mumbled, grabbing the chain from the wall and unlocking the padlock. 

The Crow complied quietly, standing as they were hauled up. Their long white hair had fallen in their eyes, the blood from their nose crusted onto their porcelain skin. They were entirely naked other than their little bell, feeling their cheeks flush at the realisation that they were to be paraded through the Church completely naked. The hunter didn’t speak, pulling them through the dungeon. The pair stumbled up the stairs, the Crow’s feet making little patter noises against the stone. The Church was strange, but just as they’d imagined it; dramatic cathedral like hallways, strange statues everywhere, Executioners giving them sneering looks. Anger burned in their chest as they walked; with every single pair of eyes that landed on their body, the Crow vowed that as soon as they were free, every single Executioner and hunter in the church would be nothing more than a blood dreg for their queen. They would take this hellish cosmic punishment handed down to them and turn it into the very thing that would restore their honour.

The hunter stopped outside a large wooden door, knocking twice. A Choir member opened the door, a smile befalling their lips. There was something wrong about them, as there always were with those Choir members. Their blood was unlike the hunters or the Executioners, and tasted almost like it was a cardinal sin to drink from it. But they cared not for such sins, and enjoyed every last drop.

“Come. You, go.” The Choir member pushed the hunter back and dragged the naked Crow inside. 

The room was large and well lit, with a handful of other lower ranking Choir members darting about a bathtub in the centre. There were piles of books and a few stools, with some of them already approaching with notepads.

“We are going to ask you questions. Do some examinations. You will comply, and do as you are told.” The Choir member spoke with such a slimy voice. “We will not hesitate to harm you, but are simply in the pursuit of knowledge about you Vilebloods.”

The Crow did not speak, grunting as they were dragged toward the bathtub.


End file.
